


The ones we have left and the ones we leave behind

by Mamichigo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Island Mode (Dangan Ronpa), Kamukura is an observer in the NWP helping the characters recover so they can wake up, Light Angst, M/M, Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamichigo/pseuds/Mamichigo
Summary: The days in the simulated island are peaceful, going by without much of a problem. Most of those days, Komaeda feels grateful that he gets a second chance at all, considering everything that happened the first time around in the simulation. Other days, however, he looks at Kamukura and misses someone that looks the exact same.





	The ones we have left and the ones we leave behind

**Author's Note:**

> Edit (12.20): I just polished some sentences that were badly phrased 
> 
> I was replaying sdr2 and got Feels, that's all I have to say. I'm gonna talk a little about how I headcanon the nwp works to heal the characters, so if you're interested keep reading, but if not just go straight to the fic
> 
> While I absolutely love the World Destroyer ova, I really can't see how that'd help the characters come back at all. How was that any better than being trapped in a killing game? So this is how I made this work: To get everyone who died back, they're basically going through the Island Mode so they have a new chance to bond with a clean slate. Hinata created the Kamukura alter ego (world destroyer) to be an observer, he basically watches them, helping where he's needed, and makes routine checks up to help their psyche. They weren't supposed to know they're in a simulation, but due to the broken psyche of some of them (like Komaeda), some of them are aware of what's going on. Alter ego serves as a grumpier Hinata to take care of everyone

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

Nagito, too absorbed in looking at his own shoes, didn’t notice someone approaching until the voice reached him—though, truth be told, he doubted he would have noticed even if standing in full alert, it wouldn’t be a hard task for the other to sneak up on Nagito if he wanted to. Nagito looked up to watch the figure walk closer; even from a distance, Nagito could see the red glow of his eyes.

“Kamukura…” He acknowledged the man, quietly. Then, registering Kamukura’s words, Nagito chuckled and tilted his head at him. “That sounds unlikely, coming from you. Lying doesn’t fit you well.”

“It is not a lie, I might have predicted this was a possible outcome, but I had… Hoped your choice would’ve been different.” Nagito doesn’t miss the slight hesitation, even if, In Kamukura’s voice, it sounded just like another one of the pauses he’d often make when speaking. Nagito smiled at him.

“Well, sorry for the disappointment, I’m sure it’s boring to even think of my actions for someone like you.” Kamukura gave him a blank but hard stare, as if he didn’t know exactly what Nagito meant. “Wouldn’t it be better to spend time with someone worthy of it?”

“And wouldn’t it be better for you to be outside, with the others?” Kamukura threw back. He paused to look at the room at large, the painfully bright red walls and the pink strawberries, glaring at them silently. At the equipment filling the place, from the small slide to the swings where Nagito was sitting.  “It’d be more enjoyable than this place.”

“Not a fan of the Funhouse, I see.” Nagito grinned seeing the dismissive but certainly grumpy look Kamukura was giving the strawberries. “I suppose that’s expected, you never—" It was his turn to halt, smile dropping at the same time as his gaze. He rubbed the point of his shoes on the ground as he continued, weaker, “Never liked it. Before.”

Kamukura watched him for a long moment; Nagito could feels his eyes on the top of head, the attention almost unnerving. It made his skin crawl a bit, but Nagito was sure that wasn’t the appropriate thing to say, often met with pitying looks and thinly veiled disgust. The latter was bearable, something he was used to and most likely deserved, no matter how much they said the contrary. The former, however…

It reminded of funerals and powerlessness. Of being alone and pointless condolences. It made his insides revolt and twist until everything was scrambled, out of place.

“Komaeda,” Kamukura called, breaking his reverie. Nagito raised his head, almost jumping when he saw the other was now so close to him, sitting on the swing next to him. The chains rattled and Nagito swayed gently, while Kamukura stayed perfectly still, hands folded in his lap. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m sorry. I should be paying attention, that was terribly rude of me, you’re already wasting your time on me and I’m here spacing out—” He hurried to say, hoping it would suffice to make up for his mistake, though he would understand if Kamukura decided to just go.

“That’s not the problem.” Kamukura let out a quiet sigh, one that reeked of boredom. That was understandable. It was, Nagito accepted it; there’s no way someone like him could entertain Kamukura for long.

And yet, he looked at the painfully familiar short, spiky bangs and ached. Ached because, selfishly, he didn’t want Kamukura to go.

“You’re getting unstable,” Kamukura said bluntly. He narrowed his eyes at Nagito, like he was analyzing him just with his gaze—which, knowing Kamukura, was probably what he was doing. “I am not going anywhere, nor am I wasting my time. I came here out of my own free will.”

When Nagito laughed, he was embarrassed to find out his voice was trembling, so he hurried to clamp his mouth shut against the sound.

“You have spent many times in my company,” Kamukura starts, and he doesn’t specify it, but Nagito can hear the _before_ at the end of his sentence. Always before; such an ambiguous but meaningful thing. “And you were never this resistant to it, according to my data. Why is now different?”

Nagito thinks of this for a moment, smiling sadly at nothing in particular. “You— Hinata—“ He chuckles to himself, even if it’s in dissonance with how he feels. “Made it easy, I think.”

Kamukura nods as if he understands. Maybe he does, Komaeda is still unsure of how much this Kamukura shares with the original Hinata, or at least with the one who endured weeks of the Killing School Trip and made it out alive.

Nagito rubs his neck in discomfort at the thought, always so unsettled by his own actions during the time he spent in the simulation the first time, even if the memories he had of it glitched around the edges to sometimes escape him completely. Kamukura said it was a sign that he was getting better, the repulsion, but Nagito didn’t draw much comfort from it.

With a small push of his feet, Nagito swayed back and forth, though just barely leaving his original position. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but it had seemed like a good idea, or maybe he was just accepting the urge to play around in the playground, however childish as it may be. Kamukura, still perfectly composed in his own swing, watched him with something that almost looked like curiosity.

“Does that, too, make it easy?” Kamukura asked, eyeing the rattling chains. Nagito realizes they never discussed the playground _before_ , so this was an experience exclusive to the both of them.

“I suppose. I’m not sure.” Nagito planted his feet on the floor so the swing came to a stop. He smiled at Kamukura. “I just felt like doing it.”

“You are a strange man, Komaeda.”

“That’s a kind description, I’d say,” Nagito told him and shrugged. He wondered if Kamukura knew what that felt like, to do things without a reason, without calculating the outcome. “Is that the official report on my progress, then?”

“It’s a rest day, it’s not the time for your routine checkup quite yet. And that would be an useless thing o report, so no.” Even if it was small, Nagito could see he was smiling now.

“But this conversation is still going in it, isn’t it?”

“That’s classified,” Kamukura deadpanned. However, there was glint of amusement in his eyes, one that took Nagito many days of observation to learn how to pick up. He smiled fondly.

“You have such a weird sense of humor, Kamukura.”

Silence fell upon them, but this time it was almost relaxing. Nagito was content in leaning his cheek on one side of the chains and close his eyes, weakly swinging himself as his mind wandered. This way he couldn’t confirm it, but he was sure Kamukura was still watching him, always attentive. It had to be boring for him by now: even Hinata had been incapable of sitting still in uninterrupted silence for much long.

Nagito doesn’t remember how he knows that, but he’s sure it’s true, somehow. With the doubt, curiosity surged in him and Nagito opened his eyes and turned his head, intending to ask him directly about it—

He looked at red eyes and deflated, words dying on his tongue. Of course, how could’ve he forgotten?

If asked, Kamukura would sure be able to answer, as he said it himself: he had the data on all of them. But, it wouldn’t be the same. Nagito felt ungrateful for thinking so, especially when Kamukura was keeping him from rotting away in solitude like he wanted to do on one of these bad episodes, and still.

_And still._

“…Will I be able to see him soon?” He finally asks, the question escaping him like a swollen balloon leaving his lungs, innocent looking but so painful.

Under Kamukura’s gaze, he feels uncomfortably bare.

“You still want to see him, even if he wasn’t the person you thought he was?” Of course he never asks who, exactly, Nagito means. “Even if he might now not be the person you met?”

“That’s a non-response, Kamukura. Let me guess, that’s classified too.” He laughs humorlessly. Kamukura doesn’t react, waiting. Nagito sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter, talent or no talent. It doesn’t matter if he’s the reserve course student, or the ultimate who doesn’t remember his talent, or someone else entirely. That’s irrelevant.”

Kamukura looks at him for a little longer, then finally nods. “Good. You’re improving, then.”

“You did come for a checkup after all,” he joked.

“No, but I can’t overlook any of your improvement. This… Will be good to hear.” By the one overlooking them all. By _Hinata._ Komaeda feels almost shy at the thought. “I did, however, have an objective in mind when coming here.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I wanted to give you something.” Nagito has barely started to protest when the hand he has by his head on the chain is pulled closer to Kamukura and something is pressed against his palm. The object is sizable but not by a lot; when Kamukura nudges his fingers towards his palm, he can’t close a fist around it but his fingers fits snuggly against the smooth surface of it. “Don’t make too much of a fuss, just take it.”

Nagito does so, only because the command in Kamukura’s voice compels him to. Even then, however, he opens his hands with hesitance, bringing the object closer to himself to inspect it. What’s revealed is a glass ball with a flat surface on one side; inside it, there are small and bright clovers standing happily, seeming to glow when the light hits just right as Nagito turns it this and that way.

He looks up at Kamukura, at a loss for words. He understands the gift choice, but doesn’t understand the _why_ behind the gesture. Nagito feels a desperate urge to shake the man until he gets answers out of him, so it’s probably for the best that Kamukura speaks up once again.

“You’ve shown appreciation for… Pretty things. Going by the bookshelf in your cottage, that extends to decorations. You’ve also shown to be more favorable to items that promise good luck.” Kamukura touched an index finger to the glass. “There are seven clovers inside. Going by the data, this would be a gift you would appreciate.”

Nagito feels vaguely nauseous. He wants to spew all the words swimming in his mind about how this was a sweet gesture, but it isn’t something he _deserves_ , the idea of Kamukura going through data to determine what to gift to Nagito of all people was comical, absurd.

And yet, none of it escapes him, and all Nagito can do is pathetically hold on to the ball, clutching it in his tense fingers. Kamukura looks at his fist and, where there was one finger, there’s suddenly a warm palm resting against Nagito’s hand. Nagito jolts, and thankfully Kamukura’s hold on him keeps the glass safe from falling.

His heart is hammering in his chest, painful against his ribs and sternum.

“That was a gift from me,” Kamukura tells him. “And this…”

He pulls Nagito closer, and he goes unsteadily due to the swaying swing, their bodies now twisted so they meet in the space between the two swings. Kamukura gently taps two fingers to Nagito’s forehead, then drags them to the side so his bangs are pushed aside.

Then his lips are pressed to the center of Nagito’s head and everything is static and nonsensical sounds that might still be his own racing heart.

“…This is from Hinata,” Kamukura says, unusually quiet as he pulls away. The way Kamukura says it, followed by how he tucks a piece of non-existent hair behind his ear makes him seem almost bashful, as absurd as it sounds to Nagito.

“I— I don’t—”

“If you’re going to say I shouldn’t touch trash like you, save your breath,” Kamukura cuts in, dry and harsh as ever, making Nagito feel like what happened just a minute ago was an illusion created by own brain. “I wanted to, your words can’t change that.”

Nagito laughs in the face of how matter-of-factly that’s said; like it’s as simple, as _easy_ as that. _Does that, too, make it easy?_

As Nagito extends a tentative hand to Kamukura, as Kamukura meets him halfway there, as their hands clasp together in a clammy and nearly clumsy embrace, Nagito thinks it does. He looks up at red eyes and thinks of green.

“We’ll see each other soon,” Kamukura says, and it sounds exactly like Hinata’s more cheerful voice.

He looks at red and wonders how many times is it possible to fall for the same person.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen the Island Mode is a gift and Komaeda's ending warms my heart bc you can truly see him changing the way he thinks to smth more positive (especially abandoning the obsession of finding the strongest hope), so to me it'll be forever the actual canon of how everyone woke up. Also, this was entirely written to the sound of [ this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/6cft52c0fmimys9pgemi4ykp2/playlist/2g1vUM1Tv4nRrsq2xFeMNO?si=VoUTCPWNS5mNIMbXUpZGrw), which I made because of this fic
> 
> (The next report on Komaeda says "Misses Hajime Hinata" and Hinata just dies)
> 
>  
> 
> [@mamichigo on tumblr](https://mamichigo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
